


Long Time No See

by BijutsuYoukai



Series: Lessons In How To Drift [1]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Consensual Sex, Dominant partner, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Female Guardian (Destiny) - Freeform, Gambit Mention, Kissing, Light Bondage, Oral Sex, Previous Relationship, Rough Sex, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, present day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-03-09 10:54:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18915505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BijutsuYoukai/pseuds/BijutsuYoukai
Summary: Centuries ago, reader and the man they call the Drifter ran in a crew together. In the past they spent post battle time together burning off the adrenaline. Now so long in the future, the memories come rushing back and reader takes part in a match of Gambit in hopes of rekindling that old flame from the past.





	Long Time No See

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written smut in literally YEARS but I just couldn't help myself with this one. Got into D2 and I've got the biggest thing for the Drifter. Thought I was weird at first until I found Drifter smut on AO3, which encouraged me to put down some of my own ideas that have been brewing. Apologies if Drifter is OoC - I tried my best to keep him in character, but I don't write for Bungie, so I can only get so far.

It'd been a day like any other. You'd woken up ready and raring to go out and put some baddies in their place - but for once, there were none. At least no impending threat that required YOU. Still, you had to find something to do - servicing weapons and running through training exercises only took so much time after all. As you struggled to try and think of what could preoccupy you otherwise, you remembered the rumors you'd head about some hush-hush type of new 'game' that had been happening. Stories of guardians who had gone out to slay lured hordes of Fallen and Vex and the like, as well as trade some bullets and even play with essence of the Darkness itself. You weren't sure how you'd dismissed the rumors in the first place, because damn if that didn't sound interesting now.

You set off about the Tower, searching for one of the folks you usually got your information from to confirm the rumors and see how you might partake in this new game that the whispers called 'Gambit'. It took some coaxing, to be certain, but after promises that the secrets that were shared to you remained under a zipped lip, you were able to find out where to go. You were surprised when they told you - some out of use hall you'd thought was mostly for storing boring things like carpets, curtains, and mundane supplies. How long had this game been going on? How long had the purveyor of Gambit been hiding out there? You cursed yourself for slacking - way back when times were tough you'd have never left any nook or cranny unexplored and undocumented - too much rode on being alert. Of course, had you really even been that aware back then? Or had your crew for the time just made it seem that way?

You'd been around for several hundred years, give or take, and ran with a crew who some might call an acquired taste. Damn if they hadn't gotten things done when they needed to though. Every last one of them had been a crazy son of a bitch, too and you were sure back then they would've said the same of you. You smiled at the memory as you made your way toward the hall in the lower courtyard of the tower, enjoying the low chatter of the Tower denizens and the rumble of the ships coming and going as other guardians went about their routines. Sometimes you missed those days, back when all you had was whoever you ran with and you couldn't trust anyone outside them. It made every moment feel more alive, thrilling even, and you weren't sure if trading that for a wider range of allies and a rather blaise day was your favorite choice you had made. But there was little place left for rogue lightbearers in the system nowadays, especially when everything else in the universe was trying to make your life a living hell.

You gave your head a shake to clear it as you came to a half-closed chainlink gate and ducked underneath. Straightening up you rolled your shoulders to loosen them and made yourself look as impressive as you could manage - first impressions and all that. Just past the gate you thought you could hear someone muttering in a low voice. Stepping forward and around you let your eyes drift lazily over the corridor. For a moment you curiously inspected the leftover materials and bits-and-bobs of metal and mechanical parts and who knew what else distributed messily over tables and boxes. Your eyes finally came to rest on a man dressed in a duster with a rifle slung across his back and a gunbelt around his waist. He didn't seem to have noticed you yet, so you cleared your throat to announce your presence. "You the one I'm supposed to talk to about this Gambit thing?" You asked.

If you hadn't been trying to put on a calm and cool air, you might have burst out laughing at the way the man jumped and spun around. That same air you were trying to keep up shattered as soon as you had a good look at the man's face. It was a face you hadn't seen in many, many, MANY years and not one you'd ever expected to see again. So many people were gone from long ago that you'd expected he'd have died, too. But, no, there he was, alive and kicking and hiding in some dimly lit hallway with what appeared at first glance to be a bunch of junk.

You were speechless for a moment and could see in his wild eyes the same surprise for a moment. He quickly wiped the expression away, replaced with his typical smug smile as if he wasn't surprised to see one of his old crew members from hundreds of years ago just pop up without warning. "Didn't think I'd see a ghost with a Ghost today," He spoke with the casual tone you had before been trying to achieve. Playing it cool had always been one of his strong suits.

It took a minute before your brain was finally coherent enough to make words again and you just stood there, mouth likely agape. "Yeah, uh, me neither," You quipped back. Real smooth. "Came here to find out about this new game because I had nothing to do for the day and it’s YOU in charge. How long you been hiding here?" You said in a rush. The memories were flooding back now of all those dangerous and adventurous days. "And HOW?" You added quickly, brows furrowing.

Unphased, he responded with a short, wispy laugh as if you'd just told some half decent joke. "Sister, that’s a LOT of explainin’ I don't have time for right now," He dismissed.

You frowned at him. You should’ve expected him to avoid the question, even with someone he’d trusted - or at least you thought he’d trusted - so long ago. With the initial brain melting sensation of surprise wearing off, your confidence was starting to make its way back, encouraged by a spark of annoyance at the attitude you remembered. You had an idea that might knock him a bit off his guard if you were lucky. "Well, maybe you've got time then if I play this game of yours, this 'Gambit'," You mused, stepping closer unthreateningly- last thing you needed was him thinking you were here to get back at him for something. "Don't suppose you remember what a good fight does for me?" You asked, letting your voice dip to a breathy tone as you came within a few inches.

"Or what we used to get up to afterwards?" You leaned in now so that you were face-to-face, the hairs of his beard almost scratching at your skin. You had to give him kudos for not flinching an inch. He’d never spooked or backed down real easy back then - you could only imagine the kind of resolve the centuries had given him.

"You bet I do," He quipped back surely, seemingly unmoved by your advances. 

Yet you were close enough now to could catch the look starting to swirl in his eyes. Pupils blown a bit wider, darkening with a different hunger than his norm - one you recognized all the same. You’d seen it too many times to not recognize it in him, even after so many years apart. Brows arched, you slid a gauntleted hand over the front of his duster, slipping it down and fidgeting with the edge of the fabric of his gunbelt, pointedly ignoring the holstered hand cannon in favor of ghosting over something more appealing. "Tell you what. Let’s get you out there, see if things are the same. Maybe then we'll talk," He offered coolly. It didn’t sound as if there was much room for negotiation.

Pursing your lips in a slight pout and letting your hand linger a bit longer, you smiled like the cat who'd eaten the canary and stepped back. "Deal."

\---- One Gambit Match Later ----

The time you'd spent on the Gambit field had been just as exhilarating as you remembered. The mix of hunting down the 'enemies of humanity' and your fellow lightbearers - all with the threat that something might go wrong - was intoxicating. Just as thrilling as the old days when danger and a final death were a possibility, even with a Ghost's aid. Even more like the old days you'd gotten to hear him calling out jeers and encouragement in your ear while you fought. Now that you'd a taste of it you were damn sure going to be back later. It wasn't just adrenaline the fight had roused however. The intensity of the fight had made you hornier than you cared to admit and his familiar voice hadn't made matters any better. Of course, you’d both known that already, hence your previous agreement.

Now that the battlefield was more or less empty and the other guardians had begun to take their leave, you had some business to settle with the man calling himself 'Drifter'. If you were lucky he'd help you scratch the itch Gambit had given you. If you were even luckier he might explain what in the everliving he was doing running the game in the first place and what he'd been up to all these years. Time would tell and you wasted little making it back to the ready room of the Derelict.

"Quite a show you put on out there. Looks like the years haven't changed you much."

You looked up towards the gravelly, casual tone to see the man you'd been looking for, waiting on his little grandstand looking like he hadn't a care in the world. Once again a smirk stretched his lips, the scars peeking out of the line of his beard twisting up with them. "Guess that just leaves one question. Did you enjoy the show as much I enjoyed putting it on?" You asked, eying him from one side of the transmat pads.

"Why don'tcha come over here and find out?" Drifter challenged, getting to his feet smoothly.

You gave a short puff of laughter at his words, matching his grin. If there was one thing you'd missed more than anything in the world from back then, it was the post combat time you'd spent with him and you were damn pleased to get another go.You could almost forget it had been literal centuries since the last time you’d felt like this. Now wasn’t the time for thinking though.

With practiced ease, instead of coming round and climbing the stairs onto the platform, you leapt onto it. You’d forgotten bits and pieces of Drifter’s attitude over the years, however, like how he tended to err on the trickier side. As your feet touched the metal of the platform next to him and you made to steady yourself, there was a flash of motion as he shifted quickly, bringing his leg and body around in an attempt to trip you up. Your eyes shot wide, caught off guard, and you fumbled to stabilize yourself. It was too late though and you found the metal rushing up to meet you and knock the wind out of you.

Drifter was close behind, using the twisting of his body to follow you down and pinning you by your wrists against the cold metal. “Maybe I spoke too soon - lost a bit of your touch. Back then not a thing that could catch you off guard,” He teased, his face close enough you could feel his warm breath wash over you and his voice low. You could only roll your eyes in response, feeling an embarrassed flush color your cheeks. “Guess you’re lucky I like you,” He added with a snicker.

You didn’t have the time to think of some snarky comeback before he’d tangled a fist in your hair and crushed his lips to yours. The kiss was bruising and you relished the aggression behind it. Tenderness had never been one of his virtues while you had known him and you couldn’t say you disliked the lack of it in this moment. You seized the opportunity of one free hand to press it to the back of his neck and push the two of you together more firmly. His tongue swiped across your lip insistently, demanding access that you gladly gave. He thrust his tongue eagerly into your mouth, drawing your own into battle for dominance.

A soft moan rumbled in your throat as you continued the fierce kiss, letting your free hand trail down Drifter’s clothed shoulders and back, then back up, here and there scraping your nails over the leather and cloth. You fought for a moment to free the hand he kept pinned, but his grip was strong and his hand stayed firm around your wrist. You whined into the kiss, protesting the restriction. Drifter broke away to take a breath, another amused, raspy laugh breaking the silence. “What’sa matter, hotshot? Something wrong?” He razzed again. 

You opened your mouth to answer and quickly let the words die on your parted lips. It really had been too long a time. You’d forgotten that the man could be just as aggravating as he was sexy. He loved messing with people, having that little edge over them whenever he could manage it. “Why don’t you put that smart mouth to better use?” You finally shot back, attempting to give him a droll glare.

“Oh, gladly. Gotta take care of somethin’ first,” He began, finally letting your other wrist free so he could begin to work at the buckles and ties on your armor. You contemplated giving him a hard time for a moment, but decided instead on helping him slip your gauntlets over your arms and then unlatching your chestplate and sliding it off. You were left in a thin fitted undershirt to prevent chafing, a pair of pants similar to his own, and your boots.

Drifter seemed satisfied for now, slipping his hands beneath your shirt and smoothing them across your abdomen, drifting upwards slowly. You drew a sharp breath in at his aggravatingly slow approach, giving him a narrowed look as he paused just shy of your breasts. You opened your mouth to tell him to quicken his pace, but the words came out instead as a moan when his gauntleted thumbs brushed over both nipples, beginning to tweak and roll them between his fingers to a hard peak. You let your eyes flutter shut and arched your back into his grasp, though you could still picture the smirk on his handsome face.

You’d forgotten something else about the time you’d spent with him. Sure, you could be all pomp and sass before he got his hands on you, but you turned into putty under his touch with surprising speed. Any cutting words or witty phrase you might think of turned to mush as soon as they tried to form. Every time you thought maybe you’d have built up the mental strength to sass him back for a bit, but it never failed, even now. You growled a quiet expletive in your pleasure as he continued to work your chest.

Another chuckle and then the sensations stopped and your eyes popped open. Instead now he reached for the hem of your undershirt, dragging it up and over your head smoothly and tossing the garment aside. For a brief moment you thought how much of a pain it was going to be to find it later. That thought was annihilated when Drifter returned to his ministrations, this time drawing a nipple hungrily into his mouth while he massaged the other, A small, sharp gasp escaped you at the warmth of his mouth on your skin, sucking and swirling his tongue, his beard rasping against you.

“Fuck,” You groaned, a hand reaching out to tangle in his dark hair and gripping tightly, your efforts rewarding you with a low, pleased noise from him.

He continued, switching between laving attention with his mouth and hands on each breast until he had his fill and you were struggling to quell your squirming beneath him. Already you felt an enticing arousal building between your legs and you squeezed your thighs together for a moment to alleviate the ache in your core. The attention had already made your breasts overly sensitive and it was almost a relief when he sat up to pull off his gauntlets. You felt flushed and hot all over already and watched him through hooded eyes.

Drifter barely looked bothered, save for the churning hunger in his dark eyes, still the picture of smug confidence. But as your eyes trailed smoothly down his form to the noticeable bulge straining at his pants you knew he was as hot for this as you were. Regaining a bit of sense as he set his gauntlets aside, you sat up a bit and thrust a hand out to cup his bulge. He groaned at the sudden touch and moved to restrain your wrists again, this time holding both in one hand and pressing them down. “Hey, hotshot, didn’t say you could touch yet, did I?” He warned impishly, punctuating his words with a sharp buck of his hips against yours. You gave a quiet hiss of enjoyment in answer, eyes closing again as you shook your head. “Let’s fix that,” He growled.

You heard the sound of leather sliding over and through cloth and the clinking of metal on metal, Then the feel of warm leather enveloped your wrists and his hands left, dexterously tying his gunbelt around your wrists as makeshift restraints. You tugged futilely for a moment at your bonds before looking up at him, catching your bottom lip between your teeth and biting down lightly. Pleased with his handiwork, he slid back until he was pinning you at the legs rather than the hips. 

His hands moved to the buttons on your pants, deftly popping them open and drawing them down over your hips, letting them pool around your knees. You jumped at the feeling of his light touch on the sensitive flesh of your thighs and squirmed a bit more. He brushed his fingers along the soft skin, kneading here and there before sliding his fingers closer to your lips. He slipped a finger smoothly between your folds, dragging the digit along your seam and you drew a rattling breath.

You'd already been slick with arousal before your session of heavy petting had begun - by now you were soaking and the satisfied grin on Drifter's face told you it was hard to miss. “Heh, a good fight still does get you all fired up,” He teased, prodding further.

He let his finger explore your drenched folds lazily for a few moments and you squirmed and whined, pulling at your bonds and tilting your hips to get contact where you wanted it most. Dark eyes watching you carefully, pupils blown full with his excitement, he finally slid a finger to your entrance and inserted a finger inside, crooking it up as he went. A second finger followed shortly and he began a smooth come hither motion, brushing the pads of his fingers against your sweet spot.

“That's it, right there,” You murmured, a string of moans part frustration but mostly pleasure following. 

The motion had begun to build a tight, coiling heat in your belly that made you want to buck into his fingers, but something was missing still. As you panted and moaned Drifter lay a steadying hand on your hips, pushing them back down and preventing you from wriggling against his hand. “Drifter…” You moaned plaintively. You weren't sure if you were quite ready to fully beg but he was making it difficult.

“Yeah, darlin', what's on your mind?” Your eyes had sealed themselves shut in your pleasure but you could practically hear the cocky smile in his words. The man knew exactly what he was doing to you.

For a brief moment, his thumb brushed against the needy bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs and you cried out softly. He continued, adding more feather light touches of his thumb now and then to heighten the fire in your belly. Though the coil continued to intensify, it still wasn't enough and after a bit of sweet torment you gave in to his game. “Drifter, please, let me cum,” You pleaded, giving him a look that was dark and heavy with longing, worrying your bottom lip in your teeth.

At your plea, the dark haired Risen leaned down to purr in your ear huskily “Good girl, wasn't so hard to ask Ol’Drifter nicely, was it?”

He punctuated his words with a fuller press of his thumb against your clit, rubbing circles over the swollen bud. The effect was almost immediate and you could feel the tension tightening more and more until, your toes curling in your boots, it shattered. Drifter's name joined your moaning and a series of cursing as you orgasmed around his fingers, now hardly caring about your restraints. He continued to stroke you as you rode out your climax, here and there murmuring words of praise in your ear, his tone thick with arousal.

By the time the waves of pleasure had ceased, you were little more than a mess. Your breathing was ragged and you watched the source of your pleasure through heavily lidded eyes. If anything over the long centuries, Drifter had improved his game by a lot. You eyed the scarred man kneeling between your legs as he drew his hand away from your nethers. He raised his slick coated fingers to his lips and greedily sucked them clean, pointedly keeping his dark eyes locked with yours. “Still tastes just as sweet even,” He commented lewdly.

He shifted and lazily shed his tufted pauldrons before sliding your pants and boots the rest of the way off and bracing a hand under both of your knees. “Bet a taste from the source'd be even better,” He added, moving suddenly to lift your legs and settle your calves over his shoulders. You made a small sound almost like a squeak in surprise at the quick change of position, your bare ass scraping against the cool metal floor. 

Drifter didn't waste much time in claiming his taste of your wet flesh, spreading your lips with his fingers before burying his face in your heat and lapping at your folds like a starved beast. Still sensitive from your orgasm, you didn't bother trying to hold back the croons of pleasure. Your satisfied sounds only increased in volume as he breached your entrance with his tongue, at the same time nudging your clit with the tip of his nose. You itched to fist your fingers in his hair again or the holes of the floor or really anything you could grasp at and anchor yourself to, but all you could do was clutch loosely at the air and cry out as that hot, tight sensation built up again quickly.

“Drifter, holy shit. Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Your brain was beyond anything but curses and names at this point, too bogged down with the feeling that was both overwhelming and oh-so-good at the same time. You didn't have to wait long for his enthusiastic silver tongue to put you over the edge again, your second climax hitting you with enough force to make you scream and tears of pleasure to prick at your eyes. 

Drifter seemed reluctant to pull away from your hypersensitive skin, even as the final spasms of your orgasm faded away and you were left even more destroyed then before. You tried to catch your breath and compose yourself. After all, despite the havoc he'd wreaked on your body already, you knew it was just to warm you up.

He drew only briefly though and you heard the sounds of cloth and leather whispering as he undid his pants. Removing your legs from his shoulders, he put a rough hand on each hip and rolled you onto your knees. Pulling your bound arms forward, you relished the chance to ground yourself by grasping at the slats in the metal floor. Pushing yourself up, the metal digging into your knees, you threw a glance over your shoulder at Drifter.

The man remained on his knees, though now his eager erection stood proud and waiting in your line of sight. He reached forward, running his palms from your neck to your backside, lingering for a moment to message your hips. His face was still an ever present cocksure grin, made dark by lust. You turned your head back to face forward as he moved to spread you open again, the head of his cock brushing your entrance teasingly.

You sucked in a breath as he leaned forward over your body a bit, his length sinking into you inch by maddening inch until you felt his hips settle against your rear. He let out a groan that made your body clench involuntarily and you answered with a sound of your own. “Hell, darlin', gonna make a fool outta me you keep doin’that,” He growled, still sounding joking, but the strain in his voice was clear.

You wiggled your hips as best you could and squeezed down on him purposely in response, pleased to finally be the one giving him a hard time, even if him sheathed inside you and sitting stone still was driving you half crazy. “Mm, if that's how you wanna play…” Drifter trailed off, settling his hands back on your hips.

Your small moment of triumph was immediately lost and he started up a rhythm that was hard, fast, and deep, each rough thrust making you cry out into the empty room. Back came the cursing and incoherent mumbling and moaning as he thrust in and out. All the while his gravelly voice was an answering chorus to yours, the sound only fueling your pleasure. One tight grip left your soon-to-bruised hip, wrapping around your leg and searching your sopping folds for your clit. Again, the reaction was near instant when his fingers found your button and you stiffened, your back bowing and head thrusting upward, lips parted in a silent ‘o'. “Drifter, Drifter, Drifter!” The name came like a chant from your lips, each time louder and more unsteady.

Your moans and calls must have been as enticing to him as his were to you, as his pace didn't last much longer. His tempo became even more rough, less rhythmic and more frantic. Finally with a few stuttered bucks if his hips and a final long, deep moan, he spent himself, filling you with a hot, wet sensation.

Then there was only the sound of your panting echoing in the room. He didn't pull out for a moment, leaning against you, steadying himself against your hips and you struggled not to crumple onto the cool metal from exhaustion. “Fuck me I've missed this,” You finally broke the silence.

“Heh, I'd be lying if I said I didn't agree with ya,” Drifter answered cheekily, withdrawing from your heat.

“Well so long as you don't go running off again, there should be plenty more fun. Now can you untie me so we can go get cleaned up, then maybe you can explain what the hell you’re doing in the Last City of all places?”


End file.
